THE STRICT BRITISH BARRISTER: ACT ONE (6 page)

You want to ask him, so ask him.

I can’t.

Sure you can, what have you got to lose? Ask him.

Lifting her gaze, she caught his intense, brown flecked, blue eyes across the table.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking this, but, uh, do you…actually…do the things in your book in…uh…your real life?” she stammered, feeling the heat burn across her face.

“Your courage to ask that question is to be commended,” he smiled. “It’s surprising. You’re an enigma, Brittany Carter.”

“I am?” she asked, her embarrassment easing with his remark.

“Yes, you are,” he nodded,
you’re demure and reserved, but you were just brave enough to ask a very provocative question, and why are you on this cruise by yourself?
“The answer is yes, I am very much like Jonas.”

Brittany felt her heart skip, and her thighs tense.

Oh, my God. He spanks women, he ties them up, this is all just too wonderful.

“
Now that my book is finished,” he remarked casually, “I have some time to enjoy myself. Would you care to have dinner with me this evening?”

“Thank you, Duncan, I would like that very much,”
Really, he just asked me to have dinner, really? I can’t believe it.

“I do prefer dining away from the thundering hordes,” he grinned. “Would you mind eating here, perhaps on my deck if the weather permits?”

“Yes, definitely,” she nodded, “I would.”
YAY

“Good, then it’s settled. Perhaps we could take a walk after this wonderful breakfast, if you don’t have other plans.”

“No, I don’t have other plans, and it will give you a chance to tell me what your new book is about, the story, I mean, if you don’t mind,” she added, wishing she hadn’t sounded so clumsy.

“Hmmm, I’ll have to think about that,” he replied. “Perhaps, if you’re a good girl I might email you the manuscript…perhaps.”

“What do you mean? How can I be a good girl?”
Did I just ask that? It’s the drink, the drink is making me behave like this.

“That’s easy,” he smiled, “just do as you’re told.”

Oooh, my toes are curling. You’re going to spank me, aren’t you Duncan Rhys-Davies. I can see it, I can feel it, and I can’t wait. Oooh, this is happening…this is really happening!

U
nspoken words can sometimes be the easiest to hear.

Both Brittany and Duncan knew why they were strolling the length of the deck together; Brittany knew why Duncan had called her and invited her to breakfast, and Duncan knew why Brittany had asked whether he practiced what he preached.

The spanking, whether a one-time event or the beginning of something more, was looming. Its promise shone through their eyes when they happened to connect, and tingled through his fingers as he gently wrapped his hand around hers.

The erotic energy between them had seen her out of breath by the time he was walking her down the wide, thickly carpeted corridor to her cabin, and standing next to her as she fumbled with her key, he finally took it from her hand and slid it in the lock.

“So, uh, what time do you want me for dinner?” she asked, wishing the meal was thirty minutes away.

“Is 7 p.m. agreeable?”

“Yes, yes, definitely,” she nodded, pushing open her door.

“Before you go…” he said, taking her elbow and turning her to face him.

His lips were on hers before she barely realized he was about to kiss her. They were swift and sure, confident and softly demanding, and as her butterflies sprang to life she felt her body dissolve into melted butter. Dropping her arm to clutch her hair he gently tilted her head to the side, and moved his mouth to whisper in her ear.

“I think you’re a bit of a cheeky girl underneath your polite exterior. Am I right?”

Heart hammering, finding it hard to find the words, she mumbled, “kind of, I want to be cheeky, very cheeky.”

Unable to stop herself she leaned into him, needing his body to support her weight, and closing her eyes she inhaled his warm, spicy, masculine scent.

“I think we have things to talk about tonight,” he purred, encircling her with his arms.

Words failed her, but her need for his unique brand of attention swam in her head.

Please don’t leave me, please don’t make me wait until tonight, please come inside with me.

“Now I must get back. I have to contact my formatter and cover artist, let them know I’ve finished the first draft, and start my read through,” he said, breaking away.

“I really am looking forward to hearing about it, the story I mean,” she said softly, hating to extricate herself from his bear hug but taking a step back.

“As I said, if you’re a good girl,” he twinkled at her. “I’ll see you later.”

She watched him for a moment as he strode down the hall, then slipped inside her door. Closing it behind her she leaned against its solid wood, seeking support for her quivering body.

I’ve never been kissed like that in my life. He’s going to break my heart. I know I shouldn’t see him tonight but I have to, I absolutely have to.

Meandering back to his stateroom, Duncan smiled his Cheshire Cat grin. He’d seen
the look
, the one that exposed her hunger, her craving, her need to be over his knee with her bottom bared and his hand slapping with gusto.

It had made him instantly hard, even more than the exquisite feel of her breasts pressed against his chest, or her soft yielding energy as she had sunk into his arms.

Entering his stateroom he found the breakfast dishes had been cleared, and the dining table was sporting a fresh basket of fruit. He paused, letting his eyes scan the room as he decided where he might warm her behind that night.

The couch? Hmm, maybe bent over the table, that’s always a delight. I think I’ll just play this one by ear. Poor baby, you need to be spanked so badly. I really am looking forward to this. I think there’s be a true submissive living inside you just waiting to be freed.

Dropping on to the sofa he placed a call to room service and ordered their dinner, adding a decadent chocolate dessert, imagining exactly how she would be devouring it.

I can’t wait to spoon that delicious pudding between your lips as I thoroughly scorch your bottom.

The unexpected events with Brittany had buoyed him, and he decided to take a jog around the ship’s track. As he changed into his shorts and a T-shirt he could feel the energy buzzing through him. The afternoon would be a long one, but anticipation was half the fun, and he knew the hours would be ticking by much more slowly for Brittany than for him.

In her cabin Brittany was pacing. She had tried to relax on her deck chair but the wind had been blowing, forcing her back inside. Picking up Educating Emily she’d settled on the couch and searched out a few of her favorite passages, only to find they made her even more unsettled. She was consumed with thoughts of what was to come, but a nagging doubt had crept into her head, one that would not release its hold on her.

Having plucked up the courage to see her fantasy become a reality, the worry that he might decide to simply have dinner and send her on her way had become almost impossible to bear.

He didn’t come right out and say he’s going to spank me. I’m just assuming that. I can’t stand this, I have to be sure, I have to
know
he’s going to spank me. I can’t leave this to chance, I can’t. I have to do something, something that will make it happen, but what?

There’s always your fantasy…! You could sneak into his cabin…! The maid will be here soon. You could walk past, just like in your dream, you could slip in, open his computer, take a gander at his new book.

Ooh, that’s really bad.

Yep, and he’ll bend you over his knee and wallop you for sure.

But that’s really, really bad.

It will make sure of the outcome.

Yes, it would…but…heavens…

Do it.

I’m not sure.

I am, you want to be spanked? Do it.

F
or the second time Brittany grabbed a chair, opened her cabin door a crack, and settled in to keep watch. She knew the maid was due to service the rooms very soon, and it wasn’t long before Brittany saw the trolley being rolled down the hallway. There were two cabins that would be cleaned before Duncan’s, and she impatiently tapped her foot and bit her lip as she waited, constantly reassuring herself that the escapade wasn’t totally foolhardy.

By the time the maid approached Duncan’s door, knocked, waited, knocked again, then entered, Brittany’s pulse was in overdrive. Taking a deep breath she left her cabin, hurried down the corridor, and peered around the doorjamb. The room was empty, and all she could hear was the maid’s humming from the bedroom.

This is totally surreal. It’s like a major déjà vu. Can I do this? More to the point, should I?

Stop being such a baby. Go, go before she comes back!

Her impish voice pushed her forward, and darting across the room she made it to the armoire in the corner, but discovered, to her horror, that she couldn’t fit through the narrow space and into her hiding place.

Nooo! This wasn’t supposed to happen. Nooo!

The maid’s humming was drawing closer, and darting through the patio door on to the deck Brittany placed herself against the wall, hoping there was enough cover from the drapes to keep her hidden.

The deck ran the length of the cabin’s suite, from the bedroom to the living area, and both rooms had sliding glass doors. As the maid sang her way back into the living room, Brittany moved quickly to the bedroom side and sighed with relief; the sliding door was partially open.

Gazing inside it was obvious that the servicing of the room had been finished. She could stay on the patio, but the wind was kicking up, and worried the maid would close the doors, perhaps even lock them, she slipped inside, darting her eyes around the room looking for somewhere to hide.

The closet, I can stay in there until she leaves.

Tiptoeing across the room, then gritting her teeth, praying the door wouldn’t squeak, she slowly opened it. To her relief it didn’t make a sound and she slipped quickly inside, but when she closed the door the entire space fell into utter darkness.

Darn, I can’t see a thing. Should I risk turning on the light?

No, definitely not. If the maid comes back she might see it through the crack at the bottom of the door.

Sighing heavily, Brittany slid down the wall and closed her eyes.

Fine mess this is. I can’t even hear her locked in here. I’ll guess I’ll just wait a while, she won’t take forever. I wonder where Duncan is? This was a really stupid idea. He could come back any time. What was I thinking?

But that’s what you want. You want to get caught, remember? You want him to spank you.

True, but this is feeling wrong, really wrong.

Reaching out through the darkness, she felt the door and leaned her ear against it, listening for the maid’s soft humming, but could hear nothing.

I guess I’ll just wait a few minutes, then risk a peek.

Strolling down the hallway, sweating and breathing heavily from his jog, Duncan saw the housekeeper rolling her trolley to the cabin next to his.

Ah, excellent. My timing is perfect. A long, hot shower, a nice nap, and then I’ll prepare for my dinner date with the lovely Miss Carter.

Entering his cabin he moved swiftly to his bedroom, stripped off, and stepped into the shower. As the water splashed around him and he soaped up thoroughly, he could feel the exertion of the long run take affect. His muscles were lightly tingling, and the earlier edginess had disappeared.

Stepping from the stall he dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and wandered to his closet. He appreciated the large walk-in closets the cruise line provided; they offered drawers and shelving as well as plenty of room for hanging jackets and suits.

Opening the door and switching on the light, he decided on a pair of soft grey slacks and a cream cashmere sweater. He could feel the weather turning; there was a nip in the air, and he’d spied more than a few whitecaps during his run.

He kept his sweaters in the lower drawer, and as he reached down to pull it open he spotted something on the floor behind the bottom of his trousers.

What is that? I can’t quite…

It was with a sudden, shocking, realization that it registered; he was staring at a pair of manicured toes in high-heeled white sandals. Hastily scooting the hangers aside he found Brittany crouched into a ball.

“Hi,” she mumbled, her eyes wide and her face bright red. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Rarely was Duncan speechless, but staring at her mortified, crimson face he was so stunned he had no idea what to say.

“I, uh, am soooo sorry about this,” she stammered, slowly standing up, “really, really sorry. I can explain.”

“I think you’d better, and get out of there immediately,” he scolded. “In fact, go and wait for me in the other room. I’m not even dressed for heaven’s sake.”

The only way out from behind the rack of trousers was to crawl out from under it, and as she dropped on to her hands and knees, her heart was thumping and her thoughts were racing.

Oooh, what have I done? He may never speak to me again. I’m going to tell him that-

-
but before she could think another word, a hot, stinging smack on her backside made her squeal in pain and shock. Bolting upright she grabbed her seat, staring up at him, aghast that he’d struck her.

Duncan had snatched the nearest thing his hand could reach, which happened to be his long, mahogany shoe horn. Gripping the steel horn he’d swished the wooden handle against her bottom as she had crawled out from underneath his trousers, bringing it down with a hard, swift strike.

“Get yourself into the sitting room immediately.”

Her hand still clutching her seat, she stumbled to her feet and raced into the main room.

Shit, this hurts. Good grief, what have I done?

You got exactly what you wanted.

I think I got the tip of the iceberg. That look on his face! He’s furious.